


At Least We're Not Detroit

by thereweregiants



Series: Headlines from the Onion [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, M/M, Mission Fic, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 17:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15999557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereweregiants/pseuds/thereweregiants
Summary: Gabe just wants to do his job, catch some criminals, and keep on with the nice comfortable routine he's established.His falling-apart apartment - and the attractive maintenance guy that comes with it - have other ideas.based off the Onion headline: Hero Of The Common Man Talks To Plumber For Entire Time He’s In House





	At Least We're Not Detroit

**Author's Note:**

> this was missionfic!methadone to the sweet sweet taste of Blackwatch!fic but it'll get me through  
> total failure at keeping word count down but thats my life  
> it's definitely not a Justified AU but you can tell I've been in the middle of a season 5 rewatch (ugh fuck the crowes though. not u Dewey)
> 
> title from the [Hastily Made Cleveland Tourism Video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZzgAjjuqZM). i mock out of love, ilu cleveland west side represent. sorry detroit you're very nice but you're a punchline.

Gabe looked mournfully at the torrent of rusty water currently flowing from the pipe under his sink into the hastily repurposed plastic storage container that had held quilts until a few minutes ago. The second day in his new apartment, and he was already breaking the place. Gabe considered himself a fairly handy person - he kept up his motorcycle’s maintenance himself, he could put together IKEA furniture without instructions, hell, he could detail strip any number of rifles without having to visit the armory. He was a decorated agent in the US Marshal’s service, and he was being defeated by a goddamn kitchen pipe.

With a sigh he looked up the number for the building’s maintenance department. He spoke with Genji, the apartment manager that Gabe had become familiar with over the past few weeks. Genji said he’d be up in a few minutes, this was something they had dealt with before. Gabe wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Nevertheless, ten minutes later came a knock on the door.

Gabe opened the door and blinked. This...was not Genji. This was a broadly muscled man most of half a foot taller, with shaggy hair, a wide mouth with a cigar hanging out of the side, and a...cowboy hat? Gabe managed to bite back his first thought -  _ I think I’ve seen this porn before _ \- but his second one made it out of his mouth.

“Don’t smoke in my apartment.” Gabe winced internally. Why did he always have to sound so angry?

The man didn’t seem to notice, instead shifting the cigar to the side of his mouth with a flash of tongue and grinning around it. “Don’t worry, it’s just to chew on. Think Genji would skin me alive if I ever lit up around here.” As Gabe was recovering from the smile, the man held up a large toolbox. “Heard you had a water problem?”

Gabe nodded, stepping aside and motioning for the man to come in. “Under my kitchen sink. I tried to get to the shutoff valve, but there was too much water for me to see.” The man helped Gabe switch out the nearly full storage container for an empty one, it taking all of their strength to bring it up to the sink to dump it. The man knelt on the floor, opening one of the cupboard doors and slithering in under the sink with an ease that belied his size. Gabe watched as his shirt rode up as he stretched. This wasn’t fair. Every plumber Gabe had ever known had been over fifty with a potbelly and hair that receded from heads down to shoulders. This guy, however, was like a wet dream come to life.

A literal wet dream in this case, as a sudden spray of water soaked the guy head to toe and got Gabe’s pants in the process. The water shut off, though, so Gabe was thankful as he went to an unpacked box to grab a couple of towels. He handed one to the man who took it with a grateful nod and towelled off his hair. Now he was unfairly attractive  _ and _ had his shirt clinging to him like it was painted on. Gabe sat in one of the kitchen chairs, towel on his lap just in case.

“Well, it’s not runnin' anymore, but we’ve got some bigger problems. The mineral buildup totally blocked off your one pipe, the pressure causing the other to spew like that.” The man shook his head. “You know, the water here is as bad as some cities on the national stage, but no one gives a shit about Cleveland so no one talks about it. We’re lucky in this building, no lead pipes, but most of the city has lead contamination. We still get hit by real hard water, hence this mineral buildup. I recommend you put filters on all your taps and your showerhead, I can give you the names of some good ones if you want it. We’ve got water softeners in the tank, but you’ll still be scrubbin’ red and white marks off of everything if you’re not proactive.” 

The man laughed at Gabe’s blinking expression. “Sorry, I fit into the plumber cliche and tend to talk my head off if you don’t stop me.” He reached a damp hand towards Gabe. “Jesse. Thanks for the towel.”

Gabe shook it, replying, “Gabe. And no problem, at least you stopped the waterfall.”

Jesse levered himself to his feet. “I can’t do much about this right now, gotta get some parts and everythin’s closed right now. Will you be at home tomorrow afternoon or evening? I can come by and fix things then.”

Gabe thought for a moment. He knew he was stuck on prisoner transport for the morning and then had meetings, but he should be out by a reasonable hour. “I think I’ll be home a bit after five, if that would work.” 

Jesse packed his things up, settling his hat back on his head as he made his way to the doorway. “I’ll see you then. Sorry you’re out your sink until then.” His bright smile hit Gabe for just a moment before the door closed behind him. “G’night, Gabe.”

“Night,” Gabe said weakly as he heard the footsteps go down the hall. Oh lord. He was seeing the man again. Maybe this time he could act like a competent adult and not a teenager.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe roared into the parking lot, sliding his way into the small space next to his SUV that couldn’t fit anything but his motorcycle. He was lucky, pretty much getting a second parking space for free because it couldn’t fit any cars. He heard a clanking from behind him as he swung his leg over, and turned to see Jesse pulling a much larger toolkit than yesterday out of his truck. 

“Hey,” Gabe said as he walked over, pulling off his helmet. “Need help carrying anything up?”

Jesse turned, smiling. Did he do anything but smile? Jesus. “That’d be great, thanks.” Gabe looped his helmet over his arm by the chinstrap and took the bag that Jesse handed him. He was handed a second bag as Jesse eyed the parked motorcycle. “Is that a Triumph?’

“Yeah, a Bonneville Speedmaster. You know bikes?”

“Not really. Had an ex whose uncle had a shop, ended up absorbing useless info over the years.” To Gabe’s mild disappointment, the gender of said ex wasn’t indicated. Not that it mattered - he had no life with his job, he should just enjoy the momentary eye candy and move on.

They went up the stairs to the third floor, Jesse asking questions about the bike and how he liked it. He was easy to talk to, listening as much as he spoke despite Gabe’s stilted speech. Gabe let them into his apartment, setting the bags down on the kitchen table. Jesse set his toolkit down and opened up the cabinet doors. 

“You, uh, need anything?” Gabe asked awkwardly. He honestly didn’t know what to do with workers in his home, it was such a rare thing. What was the etiquette?

“Nah, I’m good. You just do you, I’ll hopefully get this shipshape soon.”

“Would it be okay if I showered, or do you not want me to run any water?”

“I actually already shut off the water to your apartment, I’m sorry. There’s no real way to isolate the sink from everything else. It shouldn’t take long, I swear.”

“Okay. I’ll be in here if you need me.” Gabe jerked a thumb back to his office. If he couldn’t shower and couldn’t make dinner, he might as well get some work done. He hung his leather jacket on the hook in the hallway, before going to his bedroom and draping his suit jacket over the back of a chair. He unstrapped his shoulder and ankle holsters, guns going in the top drawer of his dresser. He made sure that the door was closed before taking off the jacket, he didn’t want Jesse to freak out at the sight of weapons.

Pulling his tie off with a sigh, he undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Despite the heat and humidity of what the calendar claimed was fall, he’d been stuck in his professional clothes all day. He usually just wore a button down, but he had to do the whole suit thing whenever he went to the prison or court. Making his way to his office, Gabe powered up his computer. Leaning back in his chair he rolled his cuffs up, cracking his wrists in anticipation of the typing ahead.

Several hours later the sounds of clanking and metal scraping from the kitchen had ceased. Gabe didn’t notice, having gone deep into the file of a man whom they suspected of being at the center of an opioid trafficking pipeline that stretched from Canada down to Kentucky. The opioid epidemic was hitting their region hard, the number of overdoses every day piling up. Getting this guy out of the business would be good for everyone.

A knock on his open door and Gabe looked up, seeing Jesse in the doorway. “All good?”

“Everythin’ is all fixed up for you.” Gabe set the file down and followed him into the kitchen. “I replaced pretty much everything under there, pipes and fittings both, so you should be good. For the kitchen sink at least.” Jesse patted the countertop. “This building is a grand old dame, over a hundred and some years old. She’s holding up, but nothing is built to last forever, and when one thing goes it’s sometimes a warning for everything else. If anything else starts actin’ up, call Genji and we’ll get you fixed up.”

Gabe nodded. Did he...what did he do now? Tip the guy? Shake his hand? He assumed thank you blowjobs were off the table, but the light sheen of sweat on Jesse’s neck almost made him want to try. Before he could say anything, Jesse had loaded himself up and made his way to the door. 

“See you around, Gabe,” he said, and was gone. 

“Thanks!” Gabe called out to his closing door. He covered his face with a hand for a minute. On the job, Gabriel Reyes was a consummate professional, by the book and efficient and looked up to by everyone. In everyday life...well, it was easier for everyone if he didn’t have much of a life. Without the structure of work he was awkward and inelegant, never quite sure of the social rules. He found it easier overall to just...not deal with it. He had friends who understood him, he had the job, he didn’t need much else. Certainly not a plumber that made him actually want to open his mouth for once.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Reyes!” He looked up from the file he was perusing to see Fareeha waving him over to an unfamiliar man. Gabe set the file aside, walking over to her desk. He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to stop chattering to the man next to her and get to why she needed him.

“Reyes, this is Hanzo Shimada with the FBI.” Gabe’s brows lowered automatically. “Don’t be like that, they’re the good guys this time. They’ve been tracking that dealer, Yost, from the Canadian side of things, and they think it’d be good if we pooled our resources, might finally have a chance of taking him down. 

Hanzo didn’t seem to be a power-hungry gun-happy thug at first glance, but the feebs never were - right until they took over his cases. Gabe was wary, having run into more jurisdictional issues than he could count over the years.

Gabe held out a hand. “Gabriel Reyes. Supervisory Deputy Marshal for the Cleveland Office.” 

Hanzo took it in a strong but not crushing grip. “Hanzo Shimada, FBI out of the Cleveland Division.” He wasn’t tall but was powerfully built, non-regulation length hair pulled back in a smooth tail and a tattoo poking out of both shirt collar and sleeve. 

Gabe frowned in puzzlement. “I’m surprised we haven’t met before, we usually deal with Moira and Akande.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “ _ Those _ two. There were some...interdepartmental issues, so they have been transferred. To Detroit.” They all winced in unison. “My partner and I were both transferred here ourselves some months ago from Santa Fe. I have family here and he went to school at Case, so when they needed two new agents they just pulled the both of us due to our familiarity with the area. You’ll meet McCree eventually, I’m sure.” 

Fareeha tugged at Gabe’s arm. “Let’s get some coffee, something that isn’t Jack’s favorite brand of tar.” She was convinced the Chief Deputy made the coffee every morning nigh-undrinkable just so no one else would have any.

“You just have to get used to it.”

“And your tastebuds were burned off decades ago by it so you don’t get a say.” Fareeha had hustled them all to the elevators, and they ended up in a coffee shop just down the street.

They sat down with their drinks in a corner, Gabe claiming the spot with the best unobstructed view first.

“Some introductions, I suppose, if we’ll be working together. Our chief deputy is Jack Morrison, you’ve met him?” At Hanzo’s nod, Gabe continued. “I’m in charge of investigative operations and tactical operations, though I’m currently pinch hitting for some prisoner ops too while Ana is at a conference. She’s our other supervisory deputy, also handles witnesses and transport. You’ll be working with my group, presumably, which includes Fareeha here, Angela Ziegler, and Olivia Colomar. Everyone calls her Sombra, just go along with it.”

Gabe settled back in his chair, fixing Hanzo in his gaze. “Not to start things off on a bad note, but we haven’t always had good relations with your agency in the past. I don’t want to assume anything, given that we’ve just met, but please know that we’re all somewhat wary of how operations like this might go.”

Hanzo sighed, frowning and squaring his shoulders in a way that said it was a regular habit. “I...understand. I don’t want to air our dirty laundry too much, but it sounds like you had regular contact with our previous agents and I want to begin this correctly. Moira and Akande were noted for the very behavior that you mentioned. It’s not something that our agency enjoys. We do our job best by working efficiently with each other, not taking over as those two were wont to do. McCree and I were brought in for a reason - we work well together and with others. Generally I do the behind the scenes work, he does the gladhanding. Believe me - I want the villains behind bars, no more and no less. I have no problem asking for help and I hope you will do the same with us.”

Gabe sat and processed for a minute as Fareeha leaned forward. “So when do we meet this mysterious McCree? And is he attractive and single?”

Hanzo smiled a bit, his severe face lightening. “He’s currently doing doing court work, protection and testimony, on a case that should be wrapping up in a few weeks, I am sure you will meet him then. And yes to both of your questions, though you aren’t exactly the...type of person he would be interested in, I am sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not for me, it’s for -” she was cut off by Gabe’s lightning-fast slap upside the back of her head. “I wasn’t going to say  _ you _ , Reyes.” He looked at her evenly. “Okay, fine, but -”

“Please recall all of the embarrassing childhood photographs and video I possess of you and consider how you want to end that sentence.” 

Fareeha glared. “Not in front of the FBI, Reyes.”

“Not the one that started it, Fareeha.”

Hanzo watched the back and forth with amusement. Gabe sighed and rolled his eyes. “Ana is her mother, and for better or worse Jack and I pretty much helped raise her. And what do I get for it? Having her on my team.”

“I feel like this will be an interesting operation.”

“That it will, Mr. Shimada. Now let’s get down to business. What do you know about opioids?”

-x-x-x-x-x-

There was a hole. In the floor.

Gabe stared at it, but no matter how hard he looked the fact did not change that there was a  _ hole _ in his  _ floor _ .

He had been watching some nature documentary and zoning out, running on the treadmill, when he suddenly found himself going backwards at an unexpected angle. He threw himself to the side, but the back end of his treadmill was quite definitely going through what had previously been very nice hardwood floor. Gabe had carefully pulled the treadmill loose and shoved it to the edge of the room, looking down. He could tell that it had gone through to the apartment below, but it was dark and no one responded to his tentative calls into the blackness.

Gabe called Genji, who sounded suitably panicked. Not two minutes of pacing around the apartment later, there was a knock on his door. Jesse was there, looking oddly excited. 

“Did you really crash through the floor?” 

“You don’t have to sound so pleased,” grumbled Gabe. “And yes. In my office.” He led the way, back stiff with embarrassment, suddenly aware of his sweaty threadbare tanktop and shorts that no one was meant to see. “I was running on the treadmill, the same as I have a hundred times before, I swear, and then it was just...going through.”

Jesse moved as close as he dared to the jagged opening before yelling down, “You see anything?” 

There was a light below, and Genji’s voice. “Yeah, it’s in the bedroom for the unit. Is it stable up there?” 

Gabe hurriedly backed up as Jesse bounced a little, moving around and testing the floor with a foot before putting his weight on it. “It seems to be so. There’s definitely some damage in the timber joists, they look straight rotted through.” 

After a few more minutes of yelling back and forth, Jesse stood up. “Well, it looks like that water issue from a few weeks ago had some far reaching effects. The pipes from your kitchen pass right through here on the way to the bathroom, and something must have sprung a leak - everything rotted the old wood.”

Sitting heavily on his office chair, Gabe ran a hand through his hair. “What...does that mean, practically speaking? Do I need to tiptoe around, afraid I’m going to go through to whoever is below me at any moment?”

“No, no. I’ll go in with a scope and make sure there’s no other rot, but I bet you this is it. We’ll redo the floor in here, make sure everything matches. Shame to lose the original hardwood, but oh well.”

“Any idea how long it’ll take?”

“...a while? I’m sorry, I’m honestly not sure. I have my other job during the day so I can work on it afternoons and evenings, Genji can hopefully put time in then.” At Gabe’s morose face, Jesse hurried on. “I’m sure it won’t take that long, we’ll be out of your hair soon. And the unit below is empty, so you won’t have to worry about botherin’ anyone.”

Gabe sighed and looked around the office. He kept his treadmill and weights in here, so much for home workouts for awhile. He’d have to pack up the files he had brought home, if Jesse and Genji and whoever else were going to be in and out of here. Most of his books were in his bedroom, so it’d mostly just be papers. 

“We’ll try and keep out of your hair,” Gabe looked up to see Jesse’s worried face looking down at him. 

Gabe waved a dismissive hand at the worry. “It’ll be fine, I’ll just work out at work, and do my research in the kitchen or something. Annoying but doable.”

“Okay. Just let us know, I guess, if you need us to not be here, otherwise we’ll just try and get this done as easily as possible. Here, can we trade numbers? That way I can let you know when I’m comin’ over to work.” Gabe handed over his phone, a faint buzzing coming from Jesse’s pocket a minute later as he sent over a text to himself. 

“If it’s good with you, Genji wanted to stop by during the day tomorrow and plan out things, see what the plan of attack would be. That okay?”

“Sure. I won’t be home until evening, half my stuff is still in boxes so it’s not like you can make it look worse.”

“Yeah.” Jesse shifted for a moment, before saying, “Look, I just don’t want you to get a bad impression of this place, okay? It’s a great building, I’ve lived on the first floor for a while and lived here years ago in school and never had issues, I swear this is nothing usual, okay?”

Gabe smiled a bit. It was obvious that Jesse cared about the place, and Gabe’s opinion of it. “It’s fine. I’ve lived in some truly godawful places in my time, until there are hot and cold running roaches this won’t compare.” At Jesse’s disgusted look he smiled more. “Those first places when you’re not making much, you take what you can get.”

“Sounds gross, but hey, finally got a smile out of you,” Jesse grinned down at him, and though Gabe’s mouth went straight the smile stayed in his eyes.

Gabe stood, stretching a bit after sitting tensely for so long. He didn’t miss how Jesse’s eyes followed the movement. “So you’ll be by tomorrow? Or Genji will, at least?”

“Definitely Genji, possibly me. We’ll keep you informed as to who is where, only right given it’s your place.” Jesse made his way out towards the front door. “Give a call if anything else crashes through the floor.”

“Don’t even joke about that. Night, Jesse.”

“Night, Gabe.”

Gabe closed the door behind Jesse, and went to start packing up his files. He didn’t want civilians getting their eyes on them. He couldn’t help but smiling a bit at the thought of seeing Jesse a bit more though, despite the circumstances. See? He could smile. Just...not much in public.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe walked into the marshal’s office the next morning to find Hanzo at the seat facing his desk. He was on the phone, though clearly not paying much attention to it, grunting occasionally into the speaker. He looked up at Gabe, saying that he was waiting for Fareeha before going back to flipping through a file and making non-committal sounds into his phone.

Setting down the file box, Gabe started to unpack the things he had brought from home. How had he ended up with closed cases from five years ago on his desk? If nothing else this had brought on some much needed cleaning.

“I swear by all that is holy, if you say one more thing about this man’s shoulders I will vomit into this phone and find a way for it to reach you. Do you hav- no, hush, this is not your time to talk. Do you have anything on the Pitts case that is relevant, before I hang up and do my job?” Hanzo paused, listening, before ending the call with a clipped farewell.

“Trouble in paradise?” asked Gabe.

“Goddamn McCree is freaking out over some guy he met and I am really done with listening about some person I care nothing for and will never meet. You’d never know he was a decorated agent the way he carries on like a teenage girl. Now please: let me bask in the nice calm business of drug running.”

Gabe set the box full of files on his desk and Hanzo paled. “Please tell me that is not all just for this case.”

“Hah, no. This is stuff from home. I’m having issues in my apartment and workmen are going to be going in and out, I wanted to get anything sensitive out of there.” He set a single, though thick, file down on the desk. “This is what we’re interested in. Leonard Yost, age 49. Official resident of Kentucky, though he held a temporary work visa for Canada for some years, though we’re not sure how much time he spent there. He also lived in Ann Arbor for awhile.”

Gabe spread out a paper map on the desk, covered with post-its and markings. “It used to be that we’d keep eyes on either side of the lake - drugs would come down from Canada and hit Detroit or Toledo and head south, or Buffalo and spread into New York. Recently there’s been a huge influx going through Cleveland, and the overflow is resulting in a lot of ODs and violence. We think that they’re crossing the lake and then splitting, going through Cincy down to Kentucky or going to Pittsburgh and West Virginia. It involves a lot of bodies, but I just know that Yost is at the heart of it.”

Hanzo and Gabe went through the files, Hanzo getting caught up quickly and making some connections that Gabe hadn’t thought of. Their current theory was that Yost was holed up somewhere in London, getting on the water through one of the small ports to the south. They were due for another shipment soon, and Hanzo got on the phone to try and get his agency to play nice with Canada so they could get surveillance in place. It was Gabe’s hypothesis that Yost wasn’t coming to Cleveland directly but one of the smaller towns to the east. He had a gut feeling that it was Fairport Harbor, but he hadn’t had any proof and Jack was adamant they not waste the resources when they knew they drugs would end up in the city. If they could catch them before they could even get there, though…

He told all this to Hanzo as they munched through sandwiches at the bar down the street. Hanzo nodded, wiping greasy fingers before he rolled up a sleeve to save it from a ketchupy death. “I know what it’s like, to not have financial support. This is where we might be of assistance, though. Not to go over your head,” he hastily added, “But we do more with international issues like this, so if we market it as more of a Canada-US deal rather than Ohio to points further south…”

“Then you might be able to get additional resources. I like it. Just let me know how you’re going about it so I can try and sweet-talk Jack into it. I’ll push the whole cooperation thing, and high profile crap too. Maybe we could actually get somewhere on this.” 

Hanzo’s phone buzzed, and he got a pained look after glancing at the screen. “I must go, my partner and I are switching each other out to cover protection for this witness who is...frustrating. I have never before wished for an assassination attempt, but this man has been testing my patience.” 

Gabe pushed his plate over. “Have some more fries. Maybe the guy will kick it in the next two minutes.”

“We could only hope.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe unlocked his door later that evening, hooking his keys on a hanger on the wall and tossing his bag onto the table with a yawn. He wandered to the fridge and opened the door, staring in with an idea of food but zero motivation to actually cook anything. Meat would have to be thawed, beans soaked, he didn’t think he had a vegetable other than half a sad tomato right now...pizza it was. He grabbed a beer and shut the door, only to nearly drop the bottle with a strangled sound as Jesse appeared.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Did you get my texts? I got here this afternoon, Genji and I have been workin’ on the floor.”

Gabe’s heartbeat slowly started to return to normal. “Yeah...god. Okay. I honestly haven’t looked at my phone that much, I’ve been either in meetings or attached to my work phone all day.”

Jesse gestured for Gabe to follow him. “Come take a look.” Gabe took one look at his office and felt his hopes of having things done soon dashed. 

“Is it just me, or is the hole...larger than before?”

“It’s not just you. We want to replace all of the damaged joists, not just the bits that cracked through right under you. Means we have to open it up more. Better to repair it right the first time, so this doesn’t happen again. We got pretty much all the rotten stuff ripped, out, though.”

“Are you going to have to move things?”

“Yeah, sorry. Whole floor’ll be ripped up. Everythin’ should fit into the living room, Genj and I’ll make sure nothing gets scratched.” Jesse seemed sincere and competent and honestly apologetic, Gabe was just frustrated at it all. Home was supposed to be, well, home, and now it was half a construction site. 

Jesse grabbed a battered leather bag that he slung over his shoulder. “I know it looks bad, but I swear it’ll be done before you know it. We’ll figure out what wood we’re usin’ tomorrow, talk to you about movin’ your stuff.”

“I...don’t mean to sound ungrateful. You’re doing a great job, and it’s nothing I could do. I just...you come home from work and want to relax, you know? Not worry about falling through the floor.” Gabe walked Jesse to the door.

Jesse turned and gave Gabe a small smile, that was somehow more attractive than his usual grin. Damnit. “Don’t worry. We know what we’re doin’. See you tomorrow.”

Gabe closed the door behind him and leaned against it, sighing as he finally opened the beer he’d been holding. At least he’d get to see Jesse more. That was something. He pushed himself off the door, an evening of research and pizza ahead of him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Harder, harder!”

“If you push harder, you’ll break something. Just...turn left. No, damnit, your other left. Now shove!”

With a scrape of wood, Gabe’s enormous solid wood desk finally slid through the entrance to the living room, having been tilted on an angle to get through the narrow pre-war doorway. Gabe and Jesse both leaned against it, sweating. It was the final item to get out of the now-empty office, and they had put it off ‘til last. 

“How did you even get that in there in the first place?” Jesse asked as they pushed it between the table and the wall.

“I’ve lugged that thing around for most of thirty years. You can break it down into pieces, but you need a drill and time and I’ve tried to keep it in one piece recently because I’m afraid it won’t get back together the next time.” They both collapsed on the couch. 

“I know you’re still at work, technically, but want a beer?”

“Please,” said Jesse with fervor. 

Gabe pulled two bottles out of the fridge, popping the caps with his ring as he brought them over. He handed one to Jesse, and they drank as if they had just ran a marathon, not moved a few pieces of furniture. Jesse’s head fell back against the couch, closing his eyes as he took another drink. Gabe watched his throat work before tearing his eyes away.

“God. I better stop after one, I’ll fall asleep. Been up since five,” Jesse said with a sigh.

“For your other job, right? What do you do?”

“It’s...complicated. Involves a lot of weird hours. It’s kinda nice to come here, do some honest physical work. Certainly fewer annoying coworkers.” He hit Gabe with one of his smiles at that one. “What about you, what do you do? Something involving a lot of paper, given what you have to move around.”

“Yeah, it does feel like it’s mostly paperwork a lot of the time. I work downtown. My team is doing this...international project right now, and it’s just killing us. I can’t wait to wrap it up, get on with life.” Gabe didn’t like lying about his job, but he liked far less civilians knowing about ongoing cases. So he fudged, a bit.

“Sounds like what we’re goin’ through. We’re dealing with this asshole who - hmm - who just got transferred to us, and we still have to deal with him for another week or two. I’m countin’ down the days ‘til he leaves.”

They drank in silence for a bit. “So where are you originally from? Not a Cleveland accent that I hear.”  _ Nice, Gabe. Good use of bumbling segue. _

Jesse didn’t seem to notice Gabe’s internal lecture. “I’m from the southwest, originally, though I’ve been all around. Went here for college. I’m friends with Genji’s whole family, ‘s part of what brought me back. What about you? I know you’re new to the building, at least.”

“Yeah, though not the city. I’m from LA, where I got started in my work. There was a bit of an incident, a shakeup in my office. It was justified, but they wanted to transfer me out. Thought I’d ended up here as punishment and maybe they meant it that way, but I’ve really grown to like the city. I’d lived over in Tremont for years and years, before the gentrification, but my landlord sold the building to make one more set of hipster restaurants. And so I ended up here.”

“Well, here is glad to have you. Even if it feels like the building isn’t,” Jesse said with a smile, meeting Gabe’s eyes. The look lasted long enough to be significant, long enough for Gabe to open his mouth to say something, but it was interrupted by the buzzing of Jesse’s phone. He looked at the screen and frowned. 

“I’m sorry, could you excuse me a minute? It’s work.” Gabe nodded and collected their bottles putting them in the recycling as Jesse talked.

“...and then Tim ate lunch, took a nap, and I called you to tag me out. There wasn’t anything unusual.” Jesse paused as he listened to the response, sounding more serious than Gabe had ever heard him. “Okay, well, when did that happen? Yeah. Yeah. No, I have it in my files but… Yeah, I’m at home.” A pause. “Okay, well, I mean, I’m in my building. I’m still helping out with the floor...will you stop that? Do you want my help or not?” Jesse shrugged into his jacket as he talked. “Fine, fine. Give me a few and I’ll call you back.”

“Dick.” He tossed his phone on the couch as he went into the office to grab his bag. “Gotta go. Work calls, even when it could use some shutting the hell up.”

“You remind me a lot of this guy I’ve started working with. He has a similar relationship with his partner.” Jesse’s face was fairly identical to Hanzo’s when he was talking with his partner on the phone, a mixture of annoyance and fondness and something like sibling rivalry.

“We all have our crosses to bear. From what I just heard I might not see you for a few days, but I know Genji’ll be in and out to figure out what floorin’ we’re going to use. Then we’ll rip it up, replace it, and be out of your hair.”

“Sounds good. Luck with whatever you’re dealing with.”

“Thanks. Hopefully it won’t be much of a thing, but who knows. See you around.”

“See you.” Gabe told himself he wasn’t disappointed at not seeing Jesse for a while after having him over nearly every day that week. Whatever, get it together, Reyes. He had a case to solve.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“...and so I won’t be around for several days.”

“That’s fine, Hanzo,” Gabe said into the phone, leaning back in his chair. “I’m waiting for my one informant to get back to me, squirrely guy named Jere that works the docks in Fairport and Chagrin. He said something about a shipment coming in a week or so, but we’re putting surveillance on now. If anything changes I’ll let you know.”

As Gabe hung up, a shadow fell over his desk. He looked up to see Ana, smile spreading over his face. “Hey, stranger. How was the conference?”

She threw her relatively insignificant weight down into the chair. “I’ve been doing this for thirty years. Why are they still making me go to this shit?”

“Because you’re the one presenting, and they pay you good money for it?”

“Bah.” She plucked the open file from Gabe’s desk without asking, flipping though. “Finally making progress?”

“Actually, yeah. We’ve teamed up with a guy from the FBI, and he’s actually not a dick.”

“That’s new. What happened to the redhead and the hot one?”

“By ‘hot one’ you mean the asshole who ruined the Crowder case, who is also twenty years younger than you?”

“And also seven feet tall and built from pure muscle. Women peak later than men, Gabriel. I was just following my biology.”

“Oh Ana, you  _ didn’t _ . Not with the FBI!”

She shrugged, a wicked smile playing at the edge of her lips. “It was a stakeout, we were bored, we knew the guy wasn’t going to show. You know how it goes.”

“I really, really don’t. I hope you caught something.”

“You need to loosen up. Literally in your case.”

“Can we not have this conversation? Please. I’m begging you. Here,” Gabe tapped a finger on the page Ana was on. “Current plan is to lean on this informant, Jere. With the FBI’s backing I finally got Jack to agree to some surveillance on the two harbors he works at. He said there’ll be a shipment coming in in the next week or so. We know it’ll be at night, so we won’t have to waste money during the day. I figured Fareeha and I could switch off with you and Sombra, with Angela and Hanzo the FBI guy tagging us out as needed, though Hanzo won’t be available for a bit.”

Ana nodded. “Sounds good. When are we starting?”

“Tomorrow night, me and Fareeha. Going to start at Fairport, stay there awhile, she’ll go over to Chagrin and take a look around. Might stay separate, might come back together. I just feel like Fairport is our place.”

“All right. You’ll be in late, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah, gonna come in maybe at one. The wild and wonderful world of prisoner transport is all yours again.”

“Thanks. So much. Really.” Ana stood and stretched. “I was gonna hit the gym, you want to come?”

“Sure. Did I tell you how I can’t work out at home anymore?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, there’s a bit of a hole in the floor…”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Three days later, and Gabe was dreaming of falling through floors one by one, bracing himself every few seconds to splatter into goo but instead going through another hole to the next level. He finally jerked himself awake, blinking at the ceiling. That hadn’t been pleasant. 

He stretched before sitting up. He’d been on stakeout again last night with Fareeha, and was due to go tonight with Hanzo, finally back from whatever he had been dealing with. It was late, nearly noon - he hadn’t gotten home ‘til past two the night before and it would be the same tonight. Gabe twisted at the waist, his back cracking. He was too damn old to sit in a car for twelve hours at a stretch. Maybe he’d try to get Sombra to cover him tomorrow so he didn’t have to do this for a fourth day in a row.

Gabe got up and padded to the hallway, his goal the bathroom so he could shower. As he stepped into the hallway and turned he heard a strangled sound and a crash. He looked behind him to see Jesse at the entry to his office kneeling on the floor, face covered by shaggy hair as he picked up the tools he dropped.

“Oh, hi, Jesse. Didn’t know you were here. How’s the floor coming?”

“It’s...fine. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be here, you’re usually gone by now and I texted you and knocked but I guess you didn’t hear.” He was babbling for some reason, and Gabe frowned. What was wrong with him?

“Are you...okay? You need some water or something?”

Jesse looked up for a second only to look back down at his tools, his face revealed to be bright red. “I’m…I’m sorry Gabe, could you put some clothes on? It’s - it’s distracting.”

Gabe looked down at himself. He’d forgotten that he’d fallen into bed late and tired enough that he’d just stripped down to underwear. It was an old pair and getting a bit tight, but it still covered everything. Gabe was relatively blasé about his body at this point in his life - it was a tool, something that brought his brain from place to place. He kept in shape so he could do his job, but didn’t really think about it otherwise. It truly wasn’t anything special, especially for a man his age. He didn’t get why Jesse was freaking out. Oh wait, maybe he saw some of the scars. Gabe had a normal amount for his line of work, but more than the usual for the average joe. He should cover up.

“I’ll get out of your hair. Is it okay to run the shower, will it cause any pipe problems while you’re working?”

“No, no, you’ll be fine. Go shower.” Jesse was still looking down, putting his tools away slowly. Gabe mentally shrugged and continued on to the bathroom. He showered quickly, poking his head out of the door before he went to the bedroom so as not to scandalize Jesse again. For a man who seemed so confident otherwise he was oddly sensitive. Gabe dressed in stakeout appropriate clothing, skintight black turtleneck and black tactical pants, tucking a zip-up hoodie into his bag for when it got cold later that evening. He slung his motorcycle bag over his shoulder and grabbed his hat from a hook in the hallway, poking his head into the office where Jesse was laying down floorboards.

“Everything look good?” he asked. Jesse looked up, eyes widening as he looked Gabe over.

“Planning to do some light B&E today at work, then?” he asked in a voice pitched a little higher than usual. Gabe shrugged as he stepped into the boots he had left standing at the side of the hallway. 

“Night shift,” he said as he knelt down to tie them up, his back to Jesse. He heard another tool, a hammer he thought, go crashing to the floor. He’d been impressed with Jesse’s grace and competence before, but he must really be having an off day. Gabe stood and turned, pulling his shirt down in the back from where it had rode up. 

“I won’t be back until late, feel free to help yourself to whatever in the fridge if you want,” he called on his way out the door.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe pulled his helmet out of his bag, putting it on before zooming out of the parking lot. His way of getting to work involved backstreets and alleyways that weren’t quite legal but got him where he needed to go. He wasn’t looking forward to the soon-to-arrive snow and the extra half hour added to his commute when he had to use a car. He pulled in to his building’s parking lot right behind Hanzo, who waited for him to dismount before walking in together.

“Ready for another fascinating night of surveillance?” Hazo asked, letting Gabe badge them into the building. 

Gabe sighed. ‘This is my least favorite time. We have to watch because something could happen, but the chances of it actually doing so are low. Three days until when Jere thinks the shipment is actually going to come.’

Hanzo hefted his bag higher on his shoulder as they entered the office. “Give me a few, I’m going to get changed.”

Gabe nodded, and sat down behind his desk to gather what they needed for that night. Putting his helmet on a shelf behind him, he loaded water and food into the bag. As he gathered his files, Ana sat down across from him. 

“Here’s some information that we got from the local PD in London,” she said, handing him a folder. “Your boy Hanzo’s partner got them to share their information, something that we haven’t been able to do for weeks.” She sounded grumpy, but Gabe knew she was happier to have the intel than care where it came from. “Yost has been living in a long term motel about halfway between London and St Thomas. They noticed him because there was an explosion at a meth house down in Port Stanley, and he was on the scene. He said he was a dockworker, but he couldn’t provide a current work visa, only the one we knew he had that expired a year or so ago. They told him to take care of it and let him go.”

“Damn Canadians. Why couldn’t they be assholes like us when we need them to be?” 

“Don’t worry, they can be assholes just like everyone else, they just smell like maple syrup and say sorry when they do so.” Gabe belatedly remembered that Ana’s ex and Fareeha’s father was Canadian, albeit from the other side of the country. “In any event, given his location and where the meth house explosion was, I’m going to assume that he’s leaving out of Port Stanley.”

Gabe checked the map. Fairport was just southwest of the port. “I’m still betting that Fairport is the distribution site.”

“Good bet.” 

They looked up as Hanzo walked over, talking on the phone and waving to get their attention. He was clad similarly to Gabe, all in black. He gave a clipped farewell and slid his phone into his pocket. “Good news and bad news. The good is that my people have had eyes on Yost, he’s been working in Port Stanley and living at a motel. Bad news is that they lost track of him this morning. He’s not at the port and he’s not in town. This isn’t an emergency, exactly, so there’s an APB out on his vehicle but we can’t devote that many people to looking for him.”

Gabe interlaced his fingers behind his head, leaning back. “I guess that makes tonight important, there might be a chance he moves early.” 

Ana tossed a granola bar at his head. “Pack more food than that, you’re going to be there a while.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe looked out onto the water with his binoculars, but saw only dark water. He had three screens in front of him that showed the exact same view, but he liked to get his eyes on it as much in real life as he could. Hanzo was stretched out across from him, legs crossed at the ankles on the seat next to Gabe with papers piled on top. He looked hard at work, writing in a notebook, but Gabe could see reflected in the window behind him that he was working on a crossword puzzle.

Hanzo’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, typed a few words, and tossed it back down. “Hey, you said a while ago you were from California, right?”

“Yeah, grew up there, where I got my start. Why?”

“Eponymous naturalist of a California woods. Four letters.”

“Muir.”

“Spell that?”

“M-U-I-R. It’s where all the redwoods are. Smells amazing there, this almost spicy and woody smell.”

“Nice. I’ve only been to Sacramento, but I’ve always meant to do a big trip up the coast.”

“I did that, right before I moved here. Last hurrah kind of thing. Took my bike and went all the way from LA to Vancouver.”

“I’m jealous.” Hanzo’s phone buzzed again He looked at it, rolled his eyes, and set it back down without answering. It buzzed again not a minute later. 

“Partner, or ...partner?”

“McCree. Amélie despises text messaging. Out of the two of them, he is far more needy and demanding.”

“Tell him thanks, by the way, for getting London PD to cooperate. Ana won’t admit it but she’d been trying for a while to get them to talk but they don’t care much for the marshal’s service and had no luck.”

“I will. Perhaps it will get his mind on the job and off of this man he is obsessing over.”

“Tell him to ask the guy out or whatever. Move on.”

Hanzo sighed. “I have already, but for someone who can get international arms dealers to give up with a smile and a wink, he is summarily useless in personal matters. Take this, for example. Apparently this man lives in his building, they have spent time together, but he doesn’t know if he is interested in men at all let alone him. I don’t think he even knows the man’s last name.”

“I feel like you would have done a full background check on him by this point.”

“Of course. One can’t be too careful in our line of work.”

Gabe cracked his elbows, arching his back before slumping back into his previous position. “Don’t ask me, my only relationship for a long time has been with the job.”

Hanzo cocked his head. “Really? I’m fairly sure you could walk into a bar and walk out with whomever you chose.”

“Hah, no. I have the social skills of a granola bar, and I’m old enough that I don’t really care about improving them.”

“You don’t need social skills when you’re attractive.”

“Pity I don’t have that, either.”

Hanzo smirked, then stopped when he realized Gabe was serious. “You...don’t think that, do you? I am straight and in a long-term relationship with the most beautiful woman I know, and even I can recognize your appeal.”

“I’ve got a face full of scars and eye bags and greying hair. And according to Fareeha I always look like I’m going to arrest someone.”

“There is a certain...intimidation factor to your appearance, I’ll grant you that. There is an allure in that, however, to a certain kind of person. Actually,” he considered for a moment. “You really should meet McCree. You’re somewhat of his type and it might get his mind off of his neighbor.”

“Not a big fan of dating at work.”

“We’re not even the same organization. And hopefully this case will be wrapped up this week.” Hanzo scrolled up through his messages for a moment. “McCree will be joining us Saturday, actually.”

“Good, we’ll need the manpower. That’s when my informant says the shipment is coming in.”

Hanzo gestured for the binoculars and looked out into the empty harbor, hoping for movement but with few expectations. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed our time together, but I would like to not live my life in panel vans.”

“Same. Hand me a granola bar.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Two days later, Gabe was curled up at the corner of his couch, book in hand. He never had gotten Sombra to cover him, and after six straight days of twelve hour stakeouts he was glad to be home and have the day off. Jesse had been in the office all afternoon, putting down the last coat of finish on the floor. He walked out, grinning at Gabe.

“Want to see the final product?”

Gabe was impressed - it was shining in the overhead lights, making it seem like the room was just built. “This looks fantastic. Want to do the living room next, make it match?”

Jesse blanched. “Please, god, no. This has been fun, but floor repair is not my forte, and I’d rather not have to do this again any time soon.”

Gabe smiled a bit. He realized he was feeling disappointed, knowing that Jesse wouldn’t be coming around regularly any more. He was such a bright spot, always cheerful and trying with a joke to make Gabe smile. The fact that he was quite attractive didn’t escape him either. He wouldn’t think that Jesse would go for someone like him, but Hanzo’s encouraging words from a few days before were echoing in his head. If he asked him to dinner now, maybe it could be a test run, see if they could have a meal as friends first.

“Want a beer?” Gabe found himself asking before he could really think about it.

He didn’t have to worry, apparently, because Jesse said, “Sure!” with a pleased look on his face. Gabe opened the fridge and handed Jesse a bottle before taking one for himself. Just as he was pulling the bottle opener off of the door, his phone rang.

Gabe was ready to send it to voicemail when he saw Ana’s name. She never called outside of work unless it was absolutely necessary. “I’m sorry, please give me a moment,” he said to Jesse as he answered the call.

“Ana?” he asked.

“Get over here _ now _ , Reyes. London PD saw Yost leaving on a boat at high speed just now. The deal is going down tonight.”

“Shit. I thought it was going to be tomorrow.” Gabe put his beer back in the fridge and pulled his bag off of the floor, setting it on the table. “How much time do we have?” 

“Not much. Don’t stop at the station. Go to the warehouse two blocks to the east next to the shut-down Skyline, we’re using it as home base.”

“Ana, I -” he glanced at Jesse, who was obviously interested and just as obviously trying not to look like he was listening. “I don’t have any of my gear, just what I wore home.”

“That’s fine. I’ll stop by the armory. Shotguns?”

“Yeah. The straps should be with everything else, make sure to get my belts. I’ve got my main and backup here with me.”

“Okay. Get here ASAP, we don’t have much time.”

“Got it.” Gabe shoved the phone in a pocket, fishing his helmet out of the bag so he’d have room to fill it up. He belatedly turned to Jesse. “Jesse, I -” a shrill ringing cut him off. Jesse’s phone this time.

Jesse held a hand up, frowning as he looked at his screen. “I’ve gotta take this, gimme a minute.”

Gabe nodded and went to his bedroom and shut the door, skinning out of his clothes as soon as it was closed. He quickly dressed in compression tights and shirt, layering over it a black turtleneck and his tac pants. He strapped on his ankle holster before stepping into his boots, and put his service weapon and holster into his bag, he’d get them on with the gear Ana would bring. He pulled on his knit hat and opened the door, shrugging into his leather jacket on his way into the kitchen. 

Jesse was packing away his things quickly. “Gabe, I’m sorry -” he looked at Gabe and how he was dressed and smiled a bit sadly. “Looks like you have to go as well.”

“I do. Work emergency. Jesse…” he took a step closer, hand tightening on the strap of his bag. “I...was going to ask you to stay. For dinner.”

Jesse’s smile turned from sad to wistful. “I’d...like that. Not tonight, though, obviously.”

“Well, you know where I live. And have my number. So when you’re free…”

“I’ll give a call.” Jesse looked like he was going to move closer, but rocked back on his heels at the last moment. “I’ll see you later, Gabe.”

Gabe smiled, nodded, feeling awkward but happy. “I’ll see you later.”

Jesse left, the door shutting quietly behind him. Gabe grabbed his helmet and almost left before he realized his phone was in his other pants. Running back to grab it, he locked up quickly and pounded down the stairs. As he roared out of the parking lot, he spotted Jesse getting into his own truck, presumably off to whatever work thing he had. Must be a pipe break or something like he'd had when they first met. 

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was a thirty five minute drive, and Gabe made it in twenty with liberal lanesplitting and misuse of one-way streets. He hated night driving on his bike, much less in such an unsafe fashion, but this was one of the few times it was necessary. Gabe pulled straight into the open warehouse doors, parking his bike in an unoccupied corner. He made his way right over to Ana, digging through his gear. He fastened on his chest and leg armor and rigged up the straps that would hold his shotguns across his back. He attached his thigh holster, checking the clip before snapping it in. He was just buckling his second belt of shotgun shells around his waist when he heard a voice call his name.

“Reyes!” It was Hanzo. “I know this isn’t the most ideal of circumstances, but I wanted you to meet my partner, McCree.”

The man next to Hanzo turned around, and Gabe’s eyes widened. “What -  _ Jesse _ ?”

“Gabe?! What the hell? What are you doing here!” Jesse looked unfairly handsome in body armor with weapons adorning him, the effect ruined a bit by the look of dumbfounded shock on his face. Gabe shook his head, trying to process the situation. 

Hanzo cocked his head in confusion before narrowing his eyes and turning on Jesse. “Wait. Is this -”

Jesse cut him off with a hand slammed to his chest armor. They proceeded to have an entire conversation using only facial expressions, with Hanzo’s thick brows rising higher and higher and Jesse’s face looking frantic. 

It ended with Hanzo pushing Jesse’s hand away and poking him hard in the chest. “We  _ will _ discuss this later.” He turned and walked away to speak with Ana.

Gabe tilted his head to the side. “When you said you had a day job, I didn’t think it was with the FBI.”

“I thought you worked in an office somewhere! You said you had had all this paperwork!”

“Well, yes. The marshal’s office. The paperwork is about drug runners.”

Jesse paced a few steps away and then back several times, before throwing up his hands. “This is ridiculous. You...and, and this...and -”

“And this is something that we’ll talk about later. I want to catch the man who has been causing deaths in my city for months now. Save the freakouts for until after we make an arrest.” He turned before Jesse could respond, and put two fingers to his mouth. An earsplitting whistle echoed through the warehouse, conversation coming to an immediate halt and faces turning towards Gabe.

“Gather round, children. We have a drug operation to bust.” Gabe divided the group into four fireteams of three, assigning them all positions around the area. Gabe himself would be on the lead team accompanied by Hanzo and Jesse, with Ana serving as sniper. Sombra already was their eye in the sky with a matte-black drone circling above the harbor.

The boat hadn’t arrived yet, so they had time to get close. Ana perched atop a shipping container, rifle at the ready. Gabe was tucked amongst boxes on one side of the dock that Jere had told him that Yost had used before, with Hanzo and Jesse on the other side. Their group was in black that faded into the night, but the other teams were in work clothes over their body armor - jumpsuits and aprons, one group in chef’s checks and jackets as they hung around the back door of a restaurant. Everyone was ready to swarm, but it was Gabe and his group that would hopefully take Yost down.

“You do have your tranq gun, right, Ana? I want this guy to survive to trial,” Gabe murmured into his mic.

“I do. Spoilsport,” Ana grumbled.

“Movement on the water. Hold for confirmation,” Sombra’s voice suddenly sounded in their ear. “Confirmation on Yost. He’s driving a power catamaran, maybe 30 feet long. Lots of storage space, possibility of people down there. Window is open next to Yost so I see him, but the others are blacked out so we could have multiple hostiles.”

“Unlikely that Yost will be alone. Everyone hold, we want as little bloodshed as possible,” Gabe said quietly.

By this point Gabe could see the boat. Fortunately they seemed to be docking with their right side towards the harbor, leaving Gabe closest to the stern. He could take the propeller out with a shot if necessary. 

“Team one, be ready to board. Two and three, at the signal surround, and make sure to get right next to the water so they don’t try and make it to another vessel. Team four, spread out, catch any stragglers. Stay in necessary communication but don’t jam up the channel. Listen to Sombra. Hold for signal.”

They waited. No movement, other than the soft slap of waves against the side of the ship.

Gabe held a scope to his eye, trying to see in the blacked out windows. He could see some kind of motion inside, but no one was coming out. His shoulders tensed as he watched a man in all black exit onto the deck. “Hold,” he whispered. Then: “Sombra, try and get over the water and see into the open window. Stay back as far as you can. I want to know how many are in there.”

He waited. They all waited. The man on the deck lit a cigarette. “One on deck. Two walking around inside, but Reyes - there is a man on the ground, bound with rope. He doesn’t seem to be moving.”

“Okay, we’ve got a hostage situation. Probably the guy that owns the boat. We are going to wait until they all exit the cabin, which will probably be when their distributor shows. Team four, spread out now. If any vehicle approaches, speak up immediately.” 

Not five minutes later, Angela’s voice came over the channel. “One black SUV, coming up Water Street.”

Gabe watched as distant headlights grew brighter. The SUV pulled around, and the doors opened. Two men in badly fitting suits got out, and the man with a cigarette on the deck waved before poking his head into the cabin. 

Gabe spoke as quickly as he could. “Hold for signal. Fareeha, take out the SUV tires. Ana, bring down everyone that moves. Hanzo and Jesse, go for Yost. I’m going to take out the propeller and go for the hostage. Team four move to surrounding positions now. Two and three, be ready to move in.”

One, two, three figures exited the boat. Unless Sombra missed her count, that was everyone bar the hostage. Gabe waited, waited until Yost’s foot hit solid ground before hissing, “Go go go,” into the mic and moving silently towards the back of the boat. 

He heard Hanzo yell out “Freeze, FBI!” and as the men turned to go back to the boat Gabe took careful aim and separated the propeller from the rest of the boat with both barrels of his gun. He slung it back over his back and grabbed his pistol, moving towards the boat. Yost went down, clapping a hand to his neck where one of Ana’s cartridges had sprouted. 

The distributors had gone back to the SUV, and were trying to drive down the road on flat tires. Angela roared in with a marshal’s SUV to block the road, and her team surrounded the vehicle. Confident that it was taken care of, Gabe turned back to the activity in front of him. Hanzo was kneeling on Yost’s back and clapping cuffs on him. One goon was on the ground holding a bleeding leg, and Gabe spotted Jesse racing after the last man. Gabe told himself that Jesse was a professional and would be fine, before forcing himself to turn towards the boat.  


Gabe boarded, watching carefully for any activity. Seeing none he moved into the cabin, which was empty but for stacks of boxes and a man with a sluggishly bleeding head wound, arms bound with what looked like dock lines. Gabe yanked the red kill cord out of the dashboard before leaning down towards the man. He checked for a pulse, then pulled up the man’s eyelids. He was out, but seemed to be okay. 

“Team one, check in.”

“All hostiles down and alive, Yost unconscious and in cuffs,” came Hanzo’s voice.

“Team two.”

“Three hostiles from SUV in custody. Team three is good as well.”

“Team four.”

“Everyone is fine. Unless you need it still, Sombra is pulling back her drone.”

“Sounds good. Angela, get over here with your kit and call for an ambulance, the presumed hostage will need it. Treat him as potentially hostile until he wakes up and we get evidence of identity. Fareeha and Lena, get a transport van each, I want to keep Yost and his associates separate from the distributors. Good work everyone.”

After that it was all cleanup. Ana took charge of the prisoners, Angela went with the hostage to the hospital, and Gabe sent everyone off with orders to come back and debrief at 8 sharp the next morning.

Gabe walked over to Hanzo and Jesse, who were leaning against Jesse’s truck and talking quietly. “Would you two mind coming back to the office with me? Jack wanted to talk to all of us at the same time, try and wrap this up.” 

Hanzo placidly assented. Jesse seemed to want to say something, but instead leaned back and nodded agreement. Gabe unloaded his weapons into a duffel, trigger-locking them before asking Hanzo if he could bring them to the office with him as they wouldn't fit on his bike. Gabe didn’t bother to undo anything else, just threw his leather jacket on over his armor and shoved his helmet down. He pulled out of the warehouse far more sedately than he had come in, planning to take the full forty minute drive back to let the post-op jitters die down. 

-x-x-x-x-x-

“This was a good mission, on all sides. That's six dealers and distributors off the streets, not to mention a few million dollars' worth of drugs that won't go out into our community.” Jack finished pouring bourbon into Gabe’s glass, and he took a sip with a mental sigh of relief. Bourbon meant that Jack thought a case was done, and they could put it to rest. He was infamous for keeping things going until he was satisfied, but the drinks meant things were going to the AUSA and they could step back. 

Jack’s attention was focused on Hanzo and Jesse. “I heard nothing but good things about you gentlemen, from Gabe here as well as Ana and their minions. I know that you’re aware that our agencies have not always worked well together, but I think this could be the start of a good relationship.” 

Jack stood, Hanzo and Jesse following a beat later. Gabe remained sitting, sipping his drink. “From here, we’ll send it over to Winston, our local Assistant US Attorney. Expect a call from him, he’ll want depositions from you both. And keep an ear out for a call from me in the future, in case anything pops up that might be good to collaborate on.” Jack walked around his desk and shook both men’s hands. “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” He held the door open for them, saving Gabe from wondering if he should stand and shake their hands as well. Jesse caught his eye for just a moment as he left. It was too fast to read an expression, but Gabe felt his face heat anyways. He sank down further in his chair, draining half his glass in a swallow.

Jack sat down heavily in his chair, before grabbing the bottle and refreshing both his and Gabe’s glasses. “You sure you don’t want to trade jobs, Gabe? The paperwork on this one will be a thing of beauty.”

“I’ve been drowning in files for days, I was glad to get a little action.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack stared into the depths of his glass. “I miss it, you know. I can’t even recall the last time I fired a gun.”

“Someone’s got to keep us all in line. Ana would bite everyone’s head off and I’d end up getting us all killed within a week.”

“True. No injuries this time, though. Might be a record, given how many players were involved.”

“Not quite. Lena managed to sprain a finger when one of Yost’s mooks tripped going up the stairs into the transport van, but…”

“That’s just Lena. We’ll call it good.” Jack stood and stretched. “Go to bed, Gabe. It’s been a long week.”

“And I still haven’t had my day off. I’m doing the debrief and going right back to bed. Might even show up in my pajamas.”

“Ana might appreciate it, but I’m pretty sure no one else will. Go the hell away, Gabe.”

“See you in the morning.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabe had undressed, showered, gotten into bed...and then nothing. He had expected it - he’d spent most of the week sleep-deprived and then been saturated with adrenaline for hours, it was no surprise he couldn’t shake it off right away.

He flicked the bedside light on and wandered into the living room. He paced around for a minute before grabbing a book and resuming the position he’d been in all those hours ago, before the mission, in the corner of the couch. He was almost unsurprised when he heard a knock at the door.

Gabe opened it to see Jesse, looking unsure of himself. He held up a sixpack in his left hand and asked, “Want that beer, finally?”

Stepping back, Gabe let him in. Jesse toed his shoes off before making his way into the living room and plopping down on the couch with an easy familiarity. An earned one, Gabe realized, when he thought about the amount of time Jesse had been spending there. Jesse handed Gabe an open bottle, popping the top of his own with an opener on a keychain.

“Didn’t mean to intrude but I saw the light on and figured you might be as keyed up as me. Never can settle after an op.”

Gabe settled back into the couch, looking Jesse over with new eyes. The muscles that he had assumed were from manual labor were just as easily from training, the faint scars on his arms could have come from weapons as much as from a trade. Gabe thought about how Hanzo had described him as the charm to his brains, the good cop to his bad. He could easily imagine Jesse’s quick smiles and quicker wit being used for any number of things in service of the country.

“You’re quiet,” Jesse’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Not that you’re a chatterbox at the best of times.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to...reconcile my mental images. Of you. I like knowing where people fit, how to deal with them. I just about had a handle on you, and then you turn out to be Hanzo’s other half.”

Jesse laughed abruptly, like it was startled out of him. “Imagine how I feel. You were just this cute guy that I was doing work for, helping out Genji, and then you turn out to be the mythical Reyes that half the FBI is terrified of and the other half wants to get with. You have quite a reputation over there, if you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t.” A pause. “You think I’m ...cute?”

Another sudden laugh. It was starting to seem like a defense mechanism. “I...god, Gabe. I help Genji out every once in a while because my first detail in the army was construction and if I do a couple things every once in awhile he doesn’t make me pay utilities. But there you were, with your grumpy face and those goddamn shoulders and that smile that doesn’t show up often, thank god, because it’d be too much. And I found myself rebuildin’ a whole damned floor, just because I got to keep coming back.” 

“I…” Gabe wasn’t sure what to say, how to say it. He found himself oddly remembering his own words to Hanzo, that McCree should just ask the guy out and move on. With a feeling like a delayed gunshot that finally hit, Gabe realized that the guy that Hanzo had complained his partner was being stupid over was...him. 

“I’m bad at this,” Gabe found himself saying. “Bad at anything personal. I am good at my job because that’s the only thing I do. I do best with everything at a distance, with papers or a gun or a title between me and it. All my friends are at work and I like it that way. But, you make me...you make me  _ want _ to smile. And that’s not - not something that happens to me. So. Yeah.” Gabe didn’t know where to go with the speech after that. He looked down at the bottle in his hands.

He was focused enough on his own awkwardness that he didn’t notice Jesse getting up, didn’t notice him moving over. He did, finally, notice Jesse cupping the side of his face with his hand, turning it towards him.

“Is this…” Jesse trailed off, eyebrows unsure and mouth tight. Gabe leaned forward a few inches, pressing his lips to Jesse’s and hoping he was making the right move. Jesse relaxed and tilted his head a bit, mouth loosening to kiss Gabe back. It was a comfortable thing, pliable lips separating just enough to deepen kisses, not enough for tongue. Gabe pulled back after a minute, resting his forehead against Jesse’s. He was tired, so tired. But...happy.  


“I’m sorry, but I’m crashing. Going to fall asleep on my feet in a few minutes.” He felt Jesse nod slightly against him.

“Same.” He pulled back, stood up, looked down at Gabe on the couch. “I’m going to leave that there,” Jesse pointed to the sixpack, which was now a fourpack, “And we’ll finish it tomorrow night, yeah?”

Gabe nodded. Smiled a bit. “I’m in for a briefing tomorrow morning then I should be off for awhile. Maybe even a few days.”

“We’ll make the most of it, then.” Jesse leaned down to brush his lips against Gabe’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said quietly against his mouth, another small kiss before standing up and leaving. Gabe heard his front door close.

He was still graceless at this, still married to the job, but somehow Jesse didn’t care about any of that. He was someone that had seen Gabe at work, that knew what the job meant, but wasn’t in his agency and didn’t come with all the strings that situation involved. Maybe...maybe this could work. Gabe reached over and turned off the light next to him, too tired to move to the bedroom. He slumped over, pulling a throw pillow over under his head, and fell asleep with the comforting scent of floor polish surrounding him, finally content.


End file.
